


No Way Out of Here

by Ragingbulldurham



Category: Jurassic World (2015)
Genre: F/M, Pre movie, prompt
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-07-10
Updated: 2015-07-10
Packaged: 2018-04-08 15:48:56
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,013
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4311147
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ragingbulldurham/pseuds/Ragingbulldurham
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <i>“They’re going to send someone out,” she reported. “It looks like we’re stuck here until they can get out here.”</i>
</p><p>
  <i>“I can think of a few ways to pass the time,” Owen grinned. “Now that we have more than a minute.” She wouldn’t smile, she wouldn’t. </i>
</p>
            </blockquote>





	No Way Out of Here

**Author's Note:**

> Based on the prompt by daylightspeaks:
> 
> At the beginning of the film Claire is three minutes late to her meeting with the investors. What if Owen was the reason for her being late? They get stuck in a compromising situation which prompts Owen's comment later. "We have an attraction..." "That's not what you said the last time I saw you." Just general flirting and bickering.
> 
> The title is from the Iron and Wine song. Enjoy! Thanks for reading!

If there was one person on the whole island that Claire would very much prefer to avoid it was Owen Grady.

Their date had been a spectacular failure. It had been the Worst. Date. Ever. And she was sure that Owen would wholeheartedly agree.

Claire did not like failing. And she really didn’t like seeing her failure all the time. In the flesh (in the very _attractive_ flesh, and that was also contributing to the problem). So when she could, she tried to send Zara in her place to talk to Owen, or asked to see Barry, or sent emails (that was a last resort, and one that usually didn’t work out all that well. Getting Owen to respond via email was like pulling teeth).

But that morning it had been unavoidable.

She needed to drive out to the raptor enclosure and check on his progress with the raptors. She was meeting with the Verizon people to discuss sponsoring the Indominus Rex, and Mr. Masrani had mentioned it might also be a good time to put the indefinitely shelved raptor attraction back on the table. (It was off the table for a whole host of reasons which included, but were not limited to, the raptors being notoriously hard to predict and, of course, Owen Grady. The board meeting where a new raptor attraction was mentioned was one of the very few times Claire had seen Owen completely lose his cool. She had been half afraid he was going to flip over the conference room table, and she had talked him down off the ledge before he ripped the board members a new one).

It was not a conversation that she was looking forward to having with him, and as she pulled up outside of the enclosure, she steeled her shoulders and climbed out of the car, her heels immediately sinking slightly in the mud.  

Owen was standing on the platform above the paddock, and the sound of her heels clacking on the metal stairs made him turn around. She could have sworn she saw him smirk as she approached.

“Hello Mr. Grady,” she greeted stepping up onto the platform and glancing down into the enclosure below.

Oh yes, he was _definitely_ smirking.

“We’re formal today, huh?” He replied, grabbing the empty bucket of food and approaching her at the top of the stairs. “What brings you all the way out here? I thought you hated coming out here. Too far.”

“I don’t hate coming out here,” Claire replied, glancing down into the enclosure, rolling her eyes slightly. “It’s not that far from the park.”

“So it’s _me_ ,” he said, and the smirk was unbearable now. “Since you always send your assistant in your place, I figured it was because you didn’t like having to come all the way out here, but if it’s not that, it must be me.”

“You certainly think very highly of yourself,” Claire bristled (she refused to admit that he was right).

“I certainly do.” His grin grew wider if that was even possible, and damn it, she didn’t have time for this. She had to get back, meet with the Verizon people, and her nephews were coming in (she had sent Zara to go meet the boat, and she was regretting that now, if for no other reason than she could have sent Zara here to deal with Owen instead).

She was trying her best to ignore the smirk and the fact that he was standing very close to her. So close, that if she wanted (and she didn’t. She didn’t) she only had to extend her fingers to brush against his arm.

"Is there somewhere we can talk?” Claire asked, glancing down at her watch. “I only need a minute of your time.”

“We’d need more than a minute,” he winked at her, and Claire bit down on her lip because she would not react. She would not smile or blush or give him any kind of satisfaction.

"Again,” Claire deadpanned. “You certainly think very highly of yourself.”

“I’ve had no complaints,” he replied, slipping by, his hands nearly coming to rest on her waist so he could get past her on the steps, and she felt every nerve in her body stand on end.

"Oh yes,” Claire followed him down the steps, watching her footing on the metal grating. “You’re the Don Juan of Isla Nublar.” He stopped so suddenly that Claire nearly ran into the back of him, and he still had that insufferable grin on his face.

“You fell for my charms,” he pointed out.

“ _One_ date. You were an unknown quality then,” Claire shot back. “You’ll notice that I didn’t ask for a repeat.” She shifted her weight, pinned him down with a stare which finally made his grin slide a little, and placed her hands on her hips. “Now, if you could please talk seriously for a minute, I have to get back.”

“I’m all yours,” Owen said, waggling his eyebrows slightly.

“Is there somewhere where we could talk?”

“We have our state of the art, pristine office just over here,” Owen answered, leading her to the small, filthy trailer that sat just outside the paddock.

The door stuck often, so he shoved his shoulder against it and it swung open. He stepped aside, letting Claire enter first, and she thought about sitting down before she realized that every inch of the trailer was covered in either papers or dirt. Owen pulled the door shut behind them, and dropped his body onto a chair, not bothering to look at what he was sitting on.

“Mr. Masrani wanted to talk to you about revisiting the topic of a raptor…” before the words were completely out of her mouth, Owen was shaking his head, jumping back up to his feet.

“No.” Gone was his playful attitude, he was all business now, his jaw squared, his arms folded in front of his body. “Absolutely not.”

“Unfortunately, that’s not _actually_ your decision,” Claire reminded him, and Owen bristled. “It’s not happening any time soon, so you can get your panties out of a bunch, but it most likely will happen at some point, so you need to come to terms with that.”

“This is a mistake,” Owen warned.

“Our numbers are slipping,” Claire started, and he gave out a short, brittle laugh.

“Numbers,” he scoffed.

“Yes, numbers mean visitors, visitors mean money,” she said. “How do you think we pay for the security for the raptors? The considerable amount of food they eat? How do you think we pay for all of this?” She gestured to the enclosure behind them.

"Claire,” he tried a different approach, his words softening. “It’s a mistake.” She sighed, rubbing the bridge of her nose.

"It really isn’t happening any time soon,” she assured him. “I think Mr. Masrani just wanted to prepare you for the possibility that at some point it could.” Owen let out his own sigh, rubbing his hand over his face.

“It’s really not happening soon?”

“It’s really not,” Claire answered. She looked at her watch. “I really need to go now. I have to get back.” She pushed on the door to the trailer, and to her dismay it didn’t budge.

“It gets stuck sometimes, you just have to shove it a little harder,” Owen said, coming up beside her and shoving at the door. It still didn’t budge.

“Shit,” he said matter-of-factly. “I think we might be stuck.”

“We can’t be stuck,” Claire argued. “I need to get back.” She threw her body weight into the door, and it didn’t move. “Can we knock? Can someone open it from the outside?”

“You could try,” Owen said. “But it’s lunch time, so it’s a skeleton crew out there right now until everyone gets back.” Claire pounded on the door anyway, switching between pounding and trying the handle, swearing under her breath.

“I don’t have time for this,” she muttered, and Owen stepped even closer to her, so close that she could feel his breath on the back of her neck, reaching around her to try the handle himself. She closed her eyes for a minute, before taking a deep breath, and stepping back away from him. “I’m going to call maintenance.” She pulled her phone out of her pocket, and called for help as Owen tried, unsuccessfully to open the door. After she hung up, he turned to her expectantly.

“Well?”

“They’re going to send someone out,” she reported. “It looks like we’re stuck here until they can get out here.”

“I can think of a few ways to pass the time,” Owen grinned. “Now that we have more than a minute.” She wouldn’t smile, she _wouldn’t_.

"In your dreams,” she scoffed. She took off her jacket and cleared off a chair, carefully lowering herself into it to not wrinkle her skirt.

“I like a challenge,” Owen told her.

“That ship has sailed,” she reminded him. “It sailed away wearing board shorts and approximately 27 minutes late.”

“I was only 24 minutes late,” Owen shot back.

“ _I’m_ going to be late today,” Claire sighed. “And this is so not the time to be late.” She blew out a breath that made her bangs flutter, and tilted her head against the back of the chair.

“Important meeting?” Owen’s voice was serious, and his actual interest made her more surprised than anything.

“Very,” she confirmed. “It’s fine, though. It’ll be fine. I’ll adjust my schedule a little and hopefully I won’t be too late. As long as the maintenance crew can get out here soon.” She gave him a small smile, which he returned, but then he froze.

“Don’t move,” he instructed, and she froze.

“What?” There were a million scenarios in her head at the moment, and none of them were good. This was a park for prehistoric creatures after all, not to mention they were in the tropics. There were plenty of things that lived in this day and age that she would rather not run into. She was working herself up into a panic as Owen slowly approached her, his hand outstretched.

“Don’t panic, you’ve got a spider in your hair,” he said softly. Claire sat still, she hated spiders. Particularly the ones on Isla Nublar that she swore grew as big as her fucking head.

“Please get it out,” she requested, and he plucked it out of her hair just as there was a pounding on the door that startled both of them, and the spider fell out of her hair and into her blouse. She shrieked, jumping up and unbuttoning her shirt, undoing her belt as she hopped around.

"Jesus, I’m sorry, here I’ll get it out,” Owen said, he was helping her get out of her blouse when the door flew open and the crew stood in the doorway.  Claire realized immediately how it looked. Owen’s hands on her, her blouse half done, and she flushed, grabbing for her belt.

“It’s not what it looks like,” she started.

“There was a spider,” Owen filled in.

“It was in my…shirt,” Claire finished lamely. She finished buttoning herself back up again, and then, feeling a little imbalanced, she gave the crew a smile. “Thank you for your prompt response.” She pushed past them, stepping out into the oppressive tropic heat.

She was almost to her car when she turned back around.

“Mr. Grady? I really wouldn’t worry. It’s not happening soon. Other things are already in the works.”

“Is one of those things a second date?” He tried.

“Uh, no,” she shook her head. “I already told you, that ship has sailed. Nice try, though.” She opened her car door, and climbed in.

She was going to be late, but a quick look at the clock confirmed not too late. Maybe a few minutes. And she let out a sigh and turned on the car, glancing in her rear view mirror at Owen Grady still standing watching her leave.

She could only hope nothing brought her out here for a nice, long time.


End file.
